Astrosaurs Vs Cows In Action

by Steve Cole

  “Huh?” Pat gasped.

  WHUMPPP!

  The saucer stopped with a sudden bump. The engines cut out. The gravity straps snapped off and the C.I.A. agents slid out of their chairs.

  “You have reached your destination,” said the sat-nav. “Have a nice day in outer space.”

  “Ta, gadget!” said Bo, stretching. “It’s good to be able to moooove again. I thought the journey would never end.”

  “It only took about twenty minutes!” said McMoo in disbelief. “This spacecraft is incredibly advanced!” He picked up some tea bags from the box the ox had given him. “I bet it even makes a nice cuppa for you!”

  “No,” said the sat-nav.

  “No?” McMoo crossly shoved the tea bags into his spacesuit. “I take it back – this saucer is rubbish!”

  “I’m just glad it got us here in one piece,” Pat said shakily. He felt a long, long, long way from home. “But where is here?”

  “You have landed on one of the rocks that make up the Jaggonax Cluster,” said the sat-nav. “An identical flying saucer is parked outside, next to an old space mining base.”

  “If an identical saucer is outside, it can only mean one thing,” said McMoo, putting on his space helmet. “Toro is here.”

  “Unless this is actually a service station for any old flying saucer!” Bo frowned. “Hang on – we haven’t got our special nose-rings. If we meet any aliens, we won’t be able to understand them.”

  McMoo shook his head. “The C.I.A.’s ringblenders wouldn’t work anyway – not out here. They translate cow-speak into any human language and back again – but who knows what they speak in outer space.”

  Pat shivered. “There could be anything waiting for us out there …”

  “Don’t worry, little bruv.” Little Bo patted his shoulder. “We’ve already met a dinosaur today – and it can’t be anything crazier than that, can it …?”

  Putting on their space helmets, Pat and Bo followed the professor out of the saucer.

  They found themselves in freezing darkness. Pat felt tiny next to the vastness of the starry sky all about him. To his right was the F.B.I. saucer, and straight ahead was a huge, white plastic dome, glittering in the icy starlight.

  Wasting no time, the professor approached the plain white door of the mining base and stuck a screwdriver into the controls. Within seconds, the door was sliding open to reveal a bare, dimly lit space beyond.

  “Lousy security,” said McMoo. “Come on, let’s make the most of it. If Toro is in, we’ll give him a big surprise.”

  “A big punch, you mean!” said Bo.

  The cattle stepped inside and the door closed behind them. Quietly, carefully, the three friends crept through the gloomy, silent corridors of the space base. It seemed deserted.

  “There’s a door here, Prof,” whispered Bo, nodding to a large metal hatch in the wall. “Can you do your screwdriver trick and force it open?”

  But then the door slid open of its own accord – to reveal a massive, menacing metallic bull with glowing green eyes.

  “A ter-moo-nator!” Pat gasped.

  At once, Bo threw a punch, but the robo-bull blocked the blow and brought a big yellow gun to bear on the cows. “I am ter-moo-nator T-5,” he grated. “Do not move – or you will die.”

  “Typical ter-moo-nator,” McMoo remarked, holding up his hooves. “Mean, merciless, and no imagination.” Just when Pat thought things couldn’t get any scarier, a large brown-and-green buffalo with whopping great horns appeared beside the half-metal monster.

  “Well, well,” said the buffalo in a silky smooth voice. “So the C.I.A. have built their own flying saucer and found their way to my secret mining base.”

  “Yep, and it was completely easy-peasy too.” Professor McMoo smiled. “You’re Toro, I take it – the F.B.I.’s big chief?”

  “The very same,” Toro agreed. “I’ve been expecting you for some time. When I sent Yak my hungry dinosaur – and left the plans for a saucer for him to find – I knew the fool would send his three star agents after me.”

  “Is that so,” said McMoo airily. “Where did you get that dinosaur, by the way?”

  Toro smiled. “Why, from outer space, of course.”

  “Be serious,” Bo snapped.

  “I am being serious!” Toro insisted. “The C.I.A. kept beating my plans in the past, so I searched in the future for ways to destroy them. And I found out that in the year 7000 AD, space-exploring humans in those fabulous flying saucers will make contact with intelligent, alien dinosaurs.”

  “Imagine that,” breathed McMoo.

  Bo had gone cross-eyed. “Dinosaurs in space …? Whoa!”

  Pat’s brain was boggling. “But why did you kidnap one and bring it back to Earth?”

  “To learn its funny dinosaur language, of course!” Toro tapped T-5’s ringblender. “Thanks to this, we can understand every growl and roar …”

  “Let’s see if you understand this!” Bo snarled. Tearing open her spacesuit, she blasted Toro with a jet of high-pressure milk from her blue-and-green udder! The buffalo reeled backwards – helped along by a hefty kick in the chest from Pat.

  At the same time, McMoo shoved T-5 back through the hatch with all his strength. “Run!” he yelled, quickly bundling Bo and Pat away down the corridor.

  “Stop!” T-5 fired a jet of scalding, stinking slime after them. “I will disable you with cream-cheese.”

  “Tempting offer,” McMoo yelled back, “but I think we’d rather escape!”

  As T-5 chased after the C.I.A. agents, Toro checked a space scanner on his wrist – and smiled. A large egg-shaped spaceship was approaching the Jaggonax Cluster. “Your timing couldn’t be better, Professor,” he murmured. “More visitors are on their way. I must leave before they arrive.” He turned and stalked away to his saucer. “My trap is ready to be sprung … and McMoo, Pat and Bo will be its unwitting victims!”

  Chapter Six

  RACING TO DANGER

  Galloping desperately along the space-base corridor, Pat felt his heart racing even faster than his hooves. “I suppose the F.B.I.’s boss was bound to have a tough ter-moo-nator bodyguard …”

  “With a cream-cheese launcher too. Ouch!” McMoo noted. “Red-hot stinky cheese could seriously upset our stomachs.”

  “It could blow them clean off!” Bo agreed – then skidded to a stop as a heavy door slid down from the ceiling in front of them, blocking the way ahead. “Pants. T-5 or Toro must’ve closed the door by remote control.”

  Pat turned, spotted a smaller door in the wall and threw it open. “Quick, let’s hide in here!”

  The cows ducked inside. McMoo slammed the door behind them and quickly locked it.

  A light flickered on, and Bo smiled. “Good choice, Pat.”

  “Pulsating potatoes!” Pat gasped. There were shelves full of weapons all around them! “Whoever blocked our way and made us come in here really messed up!”

  “Didn’t they just,” mused McMoo. “The F.B.I.’s been making a lot of mistakes lately. And yet, Toro said he was expecting us …

  Bo wasn’t listening. “Their mess-up, our bless-up. Now we can fight our way out of here!” She picked up a big silver rifle. “Cool – a sour-cream shotgun.”

  “And racks of spare ter-moo-nator armour!” Pat said excitedly.

  “I don’t approve of guns,” said McMoo, picking up a cream pistol. “But at least we can protect ourselves.”

  “Protect ourselves?” Bo grinned. “We can turn ourselves into a three-cow army with this lot. Let’s do it …”

  At that very same moment, the Sauropod was fast approaching the Jaggonax Cluster.

  “The trail goes a bit funny up ahead, Captain,” Arx reported. “It’s almost as if two flying saucers came here …”

  “You must be mistaken, Arx. There’s only one parked down there.” Teggs rose up in his control pit as he spotted the unmistakable spacecraft lying on a large chunk of rock. “See? Beside that old space mining b
ase …”

  “It’s got to be T-5’s ship,” said Gipsy. “Perhaps we’ll find his masters here.”

  “And who knows how many more dinosaur moo-tants.” Arx swallowed hard. “How shall we tackle them, Captain?”

  “We’ll land the Sauropod out of sight,” said Teggs. “Then we will march across the asteroid and burst into the base with Alass and her special security squad.”

  Gipsy forced a brave smile. “Those are some of the toughest ankylosaurs in space. With them on our side, we’ll soon take care of those creepy killer cow things.”

  “Let’s hope so,” said Teggs. He chewed heroically on a small sapling. “Sprite, take the ship down. Operation Cattle-Crunch is under way!”

  Down below in the mining base, unaware of the astrosaurs’ impending attack, the Cows In Action were getting ready to confront the F.B.I. forces.

  Bo had strapped weapons all over her body. Pat protected himself with a ter-moo-nator breastplate and a cream pistol in each hand. McMoo wore horn-armour and strapped a barrel of super-chilled muck-and-thistle ice cream to his back, ready to use with the I-scream cannon he gripped in both hooves.

  “Unlock the door, Bo,” the professor said.

  “I’m surprised the ter-moo-nator hasn’t tried to knock it down,” said Pat nervously.

  Bo sprang from the storeroom with a kung-moo leap – but the corridor outside was deserted. “Ha! That clanking tin of techno-spam is more like a chicken than a bull. He must’ve been too scared to fight us.”

  “Hmm.” McMoo looked doubtful. “This whole escape is beginning to feel a bit too easy. I have a feeling that Toro and T-5 are up to something …”

  As stealthily as they could while weighed down with their weapons, the cows crept back down the corridor.

  “We’ll burst in and surprise them,” said McMoo as they reached the enormous hatchway. “One … two … three …”

  The Cows In Action kicked open the door and charged into a run-down old control room.

  There was no sign of Toro.

  Ter-moo-nator T-5 stood glaring at them from the middle of the room, his green eyes aglow. Behind him stood six horrifying monsters with heads as big as sofas and claws like carving knives. Their jaws were crammed with teeth like elephant tusks. Dark eyes burned with hatred.

  McMoo froze, and signalled Pat and Bo to do the same.

  “Space dinosaurs,” Pat whispered in disbelief. “For real!”

  Bo raised her gun to fire, but the professor shook his head. “Those things have us outnumbered. I think they’re T. rexes – the most savage predators ever.”

  “Kind of weird-looking ones,” Bo retorted.

  As Pat’s shocked senses took in more details, he realized the monsters had cow-horns curving out of their heads like bony lances. Their hides were scaly like a reptile’s but patterned black and white like a cow’s. Most gruesome of all, udders hung down from each belly like a bundle of pink balloons.

  “Are we seeing things?” he said in a daze.

  “Yes,” T-5 answered in his grating electronic voice. “You are seeing the first ever dinosaur moo-tants.”

  Bo gulped. “But … how?”

  “We’ve come up against mutant moo-tants mixed up by the F.B.I. before,” McMoo reminded her, “but nothing like this.” His amazing brain was reeling. “Tell us, T-5 – why come all the way out here just to try and turn space dinosaurs into cows?”

  “Toro has many plans …” T-5 smiled nastily. “As you will discover.”

  “Where is he now?” McMoo demanded.

  “He has business elsewhere,” the ter-moo-nator told them. “And now, there is business I must conclude with you …”

  Drooling and slavering, the dinosaur moo-tants advanced towards the cows. McMoo, Bo and Pat raised their weapons and braced themselves to fight …

  But suddenly, the moo-tants stopped, lowered their heads and bowed down before the C.I.A. agents!

  “Huh?” Bo frowned. “Why are they acting like they serve us?”

  Meanwhile, Captain Teggs was leading Iggy, Arx and Gipsy through the corridors of the mining base. Alass the ankylosaur and her six-strong squad thumped along behind.

  “The control room should be this way,” said Iggy.

  A loud growling noise filled the air. Everyone froze.

  “The moo-tants must be close,” Arx whispered.

  “Actually, that was my stomach,” said Teggs, blushing. “Sorry – I forgot to grab a snack before we left!”

  The astrosaurs continued their advance. Gipsy found she’d lost her appetite as she saw a large hatchway up ahead. “That must be the control room.”

  “Get ready, everyone.” Teggs raised his titanic tail. “We’re going in!”

  BWAMMMMM!!!

  With a single sweeping blow, Teggs smashed down the door and led the charge inside.

  Arx took in the scene – and gulped. “Looks like we’ve found the dinosaur moo-tants’ secret base, all right.”

  “Six of them!” Gipsy’s head-crest blazed blue with alarm.

  “And there’s T-5.” Teggs watched as the ter-moo-nator and his monsters bowed down to three cows who were armed to the teeth.

  “Those must be his no-good bosses,” said Iggy.

  “Sorry to crash your little party,” Teggs called. “But whatever you’re planning, we’re here to stop you.”

  “Negative, astrosaurs,” roared the ter-moo-nator. “My three masters have ordered DEATH TO ALL DINOSAURS – starting with you.”

  Green laser flashes zapped from T-5’s eyes. Teggs gasped and staggered backwards under the onslaught, falling into Arx and Iggy. At the same time, the moo-tants roared and hissed and stamped towards them.

  Bravely, Teggs struggled back up. “Arx, Iggy, Gipsy, Alass,” he barked. “Into battler!”

  Chapter Seven

  A CLASH OF LEGENDS!

  Professor McMoo, Pat and Bo stared in dismay as the space dinosaurs charged forward to take on T-5 and the moo-tants. The whole control room shook as a ma-hoosive fight kicked off!

  “You’re outnumbered,” McMoo yelled at T-5 as he strode into the midst of the battle. “You can’t possibly win!”

  “That is the whole idea!” T-5 warbled. “These astrosaurs will think they have caught their criminals … while Toro remains free to perfect our plans!”

  Growls and roars and blistering butter-jets filled the air, and McMoo quickly bundled Pat and Bo behind a bank of controls for shelter. “So now we know,” he muttered. “Toro tricked us into entering that store and grabbing a ton of armour and weapons.”

  Bo groaned. “Of course – so we’d look like T-5’s really mean masters!”

  Pat nodded gloomily. “When these astrosaur things get us, Toro will be free to do whatever he’s planning without them or the C.I.A. on his back.”

  “That’s clever, isn’t it?” McMoo was actually smiling. “Oooh, isn’t that clever? That Toro’s a sly one.”

  “And we’ll all be squished ones by the time those scary astrosaurs have finished with us.” Bo raised her two butter-bazookas. “Let’s hope these things can hold them off …”

  “Arx! Gipsy!” cried Teggs, grappling with a C. rex in the scaly scrum of rampaging moo-tants. “Get T-5’s bosses – if we can catch the ringleaders, the rest of this mob should surrender straight away!”

  “On it, Captain!” Gipsy joined Arx, and the two astrosaurs fought their way through the furious throng towards the control panels that shielded the moo-tants’ masters.

  “No!” cried T-5. “I will defend my leaders to the death!” He raised his cream-cheese launcher, but Arx knocked him aside with a hefty paw. T-5 was sent sprawling – straight into two high-velocity hoof-jabs from Gipsy, which punched out the lasers in his eyes. With an electric warble he fell to the floor.

  “Nice work, guys!” Teggs called. But there was no time to celebrate. Three C. rexes were attacking Iggy and Alass, hammering them hard with their horns. Teggs hurled himself into the fray along with tw
o ankylosaur guards, dragging the dairy-dealing demons away.

  Arx, meanwhile, found his way blocked by another C. rex that was spoiling for a fight. While he grappled with the gruesome creature, Gipsy finally managed to reach the bank of controls sheltering Bo, Pat and McMoo.

  “Hiiiiiiii-YAH!” She leaped over the top – straight into a blast from Bo’s butter-bazooka! “Ooof!”

  “Think yourself lucky I set it to ‘warm and sloppy’,” cried Bo, “and not ‘white-hot doom’!”

  Staggering sideways and hearing only triumphant mooing, Gipsy was blinded by the yellow goop. She lashed out with a hoof and landed a lucky blow to Pat’s breastplate. WHUMP! She knocked the young bullock to the floor.

  “Hey!” McMoo fired his I-scream cannon at Gipsy’s legs and knocked her hooves from under her with a jet of icy slush. “Sorry about this – but we can’t let you stop us going after the real bad guys …”

  Gipsy fell to the floor with a splash and a cry. Bo grabbed the hadrosaur by her armoured tail and swung her around three times before letting go. Whizzz! Gipsy went surfing on dairy slush, crashing into the crowd.

  “Leave my friend alone!” shouted Arx – or, as the cows heard: “RRROAAARRRR!” He lowered his huge head-frill and charged at McMoo. The professor sprayed more muck-and-thistle ice cream at the oncoming astrosaur, but Arx jumped over the puddle – and McMoo couldn’t get clear in time …

  SPLANGGG!

  “Arrrgh!” The professor was butted into the air – and with a CRUNNCH his armoured horns got stuck in the ceiling! He was left dangling helplessly, rubbing his bruised bottom. “Well, this is embarrassing!”

  “Hang on, Prof!” Bo called. “I’ll get you!”

  While Pat drove Arx away with his pair of splurging cream pistols, Bo jumped onto the back of a nearby C. rex, climbed up onto its head and leaped towards McMoo. She just managed to grab hold of his hooves.

  “Look out, Bo!” McMoo yelled. “You’re pulling my horns out of the ceiling. We’re going to—”

  “FALLLL!” Bo concluded as they both went tumbling through the air …

  Only to land on Teggs!